


Hanahaki Placebo

by luckfoser



Category: Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: F/F, hanahaki byou, plant growth in body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 20:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4848848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckfoser/pseuds/luckfoser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nozomi told them, once, that there was a disease that could make people cough up flowers. Umi didn't think she'd have to worry about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hanahaki Placebo

**hanahaki byou(花吐き病) -A disease of the human system that coughs up flowers due to severe one-sided love**

 

It’s difficult.

Some days she’ll just cough up a petal, a harmless little thing that’s easy to hide and comes out sometimes without Umi even noticing. It happens when she feels Kotori’s stare on her back, or on those rare days where Umi will hazard a glance back and see the other girl’s half-hearted attempt at notes, the doodles in the margins, and one day she thought she would cough up a flower because Kotori had drawn her in one of the many costumes she’s made and it left a bright feeling in Umi’s chest to see it.

More than once a petal has snuck out from her mouth during practice to be discovered later, usually by one of the first years, though it’s forgotten in an instant. Nico will claim it’s a remnant of a bouquet given to her by one of her many adoring fans, and the discovery will soon be forgotten as Maki shoots her down, the evidence of Umi’s long-kept secret trod underfoot as the day wears on.

She’s not quite sure when it started. For all she knows she could’ve been sneezing out pollen throughout elementary school, growing vines in her insides since junior high. It could’ve been happening for years or weeks and it would make no difference; no matter how long it went on, she would never know why it only happened to her.

She’d heard of it before; it was something Nozomi had disclosed to all of them during one of their many practice breaks. Nozomi told them all a lot of things, little myths and fables that made Eli smile (or sometimes cringe) and Nico and Maki roll their eyes as they leaned forward, interested despite themselves. They were the types of little stories and bits of information that had Rin, Honoka, and Hanayo leaning forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity, the way the kids at the dojo do when they hear about a new technique.

The definition of it made her chest tight, and that day she had walked home quietly and tried to pick out the vague shapes of blossoms blooming in the back of her mouth, worried without knowing why, but had seen nothing. Even so, she had gone to sleep that night remembering the knowing look Nozomi had sent her way as she defined the term she’d given them, and that morning she awoke and coughed up a pristine, white lily. She kept it in her room, and every day it reminded her of an undeniable fact:

She was in love with Kotori Minami.

She hadn’t managed to piece it together at first, because frankly she wasn’t exactly the best when it came to romance. In fact, she only realized it herself on one of the many occasions where Kotori came to Honoka’s defense, telling Umi not to be so hard on their friend. She had attempted to retort, back then, but had nearly choked upon doing so. She coughed into her hands for a long, long time instead, earning concerned stares from both Kotori and Honoka, the latter of which now looked incredibly guilty, as though worried the stress she caused Umi had finally done her in.

Her hands came away a mess of petals and pollen, and she had shoved them into her desk almost immediately, tried to forget, but the sinking sensation she’d felt upon seeing it stayed with her until her troubled thoughts gave way to sleep at the end of the day.

Being in love with Kotori would have been enough for Umi, she thought. She would not have to tell the other girl, could keep it all to herself. It was one secret she would be glad to keep, because she was really, perfectly content just being near her and being able to see her almost every day. A romantic relationship with Kotori -- well, suffice to say she had considered it, thought of it sometimes late at night when she wasn’t plagued with the fear that somehow the other members of µ’s could hear her every thought.

Friendship was good. Friendship was great. Thinking back on her earlier years, friendship is more than she could have ever asked for. She just wished that the flowers weren’t around to remind her that anything more was impossible, sometimes.

Perhaps that’s why today there are thorns.

She doesn’t notice them in the morning, not while she makes the trek to school. Thinking back on it, she realizes that there was a creeping sensation, a feeling of something being wrong, the same kind of feeling that she gets when she lets an arrow loose and knows it won’t hit it’s mark. It’s not until lunchtime that she notices the prickling sensation in her throat, the pain shocking her when she swallows.

Her hand flies up to her throat as she puts down her food. Kotori and Honoka turn to look at her, both concerned, each one reaching toward her. Umi waves them off, tries to swallow once more and winces.

“Umi?” Honoka completely ignores Umi’s dismissal, putting a gentle and on her friend’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Umi tries to nod, looking down, looking quizzically at her food. Had there been something sharp in there? She stares at the contents of her bowl and concludes that absolutely none of it is shaped like spikes. She coughs in a way she hopes is polite, feels something fall into her hand when she does so. She pulls it away just enough so that only she can see and her hand is a startling red-- not blood, but a rose petal. She winces.

“Umi?” It’s Kotori now, and the worried touch she gives Umi’s shoulder makes the thorns push just a little farther, and Umi can’t help but shrink up. “What’s wrong? Do you want us to take you to the infirmary?”

Umi shakes her head, struggling to speak. “I’m fine,” she strangles out, her voice a whisper. Breathing around the rose growing in her throat is hard to do without coughing, but she manages just fine. “I just have a sore throat is all,” she says, and it’s technically not a lie but it still leaves a sour taste in her mouth.

“It’s not like you to get sick, Umi,” says Honoka, and she sounds surprised but she doesn’t press the matter. Umi is thankful for that much.

Not once in her life has she been so thankful to be back in class, because she doesn’t need to talk to listen or take notes. Going to practice after, however, is difficult. By the time she gets to the rooftop, worried stares from Kotori have spurred the growth of the roses so that they’re blooming prematurely, the delicate petals tickling her throat when she breathes too hard.

The sun is her real enemy, she thinks, because it heats her back as they practice dancing, leaves her sweating and panting and needing water, but she can’t ask for it because she’s not sure she can manage to swallow it. When they take a break she nearly collapses from the exhaustion, earning concerned looks from everyone in the group. Umi is strong, they all know; Umi can practice forever, can do more pushups than every last one of them. Seeing her laying there wheezing is a strange sight.

“What’s wrong?” Eli’s concerned voice rings out across the rooftop. When Umi gives no reply, she can feel Eli’s frown, the slight disapproval from the third-year. “Umi, usually you’re the one who tells us we should take less breaks. Now it seems like you could use more of them. Are you okay?”

“I think her throat is really bothering her.” That’s Kotori’s voice, and when Umi opens her eyes she sits up almost immediately because Kotori’s staring down at her with sparkling amber eyes, concern etched into every feature. She grabs a water bottle, puts it in Umi’s hand, fingers lingering as she does so. “Please.” It’s a word but it sounds like less than a whisper, and when she says it Umi sees a petal come out with it, a soft pink thing she catches with her free hand.

It seems Kotori is in love, as well.

Umi doubles over, dropping the water bottle, coughing so viciously into her hands that she nearly wretches, barely hearing the outcry from the rest of µ’s. By the time she’s done, everyone has formed a tight semicircle around her, even Nico, who had recoiled at the sound at first. When she looks up, she sees a small pile of red roses scattered about her, some of their stems stained with blood.

Everyone save Nozomi and Kotori has gathered around her, but Umi can’t bring herself to look up, having (quite literally) spilled her secret before all of them, or at least part of it. She’s shaking, crying, quiet, and she can feel someone - Hanayo?- gently wiping away her tears with their sleeve.

“Hanahaki byou.” Nozomi only says what everyone’s remembering, and when Umi risks looking up at her she sees kind understanding in her eyes as she approaches, picking up one of the slightly bloodied flowers and kneeling before the fallen girl. “Who brought these to you, hm?” she asks, observing the thorns on the stems, looking into Umi’s watery eyes. Umi is still, full of silent tears and even more flowers. Her gaze darts around before it settles on the ground.

“You can tell us, you know,” says Eli, taking one of her hands. Her words are full of sympathy, her touch meant to reassure. “No keeping secrets here, yeah? Not if it hurts you.” She casts a worried gaze to the roses, smooths Umi’s bangs away.

Umi feels like a child being fussed over, now, feels those seven people all too close to her, and it makes her curl in on herself more. They’re all watching her, and she’d really rather they not be. No, she hates crowds, she thinks as she pulls her own legs closer, trying in vain to shrug off the many concerned hands along her shoulders.

“Um,” Kotori speaks up now, and Umi clutches that sole pink petal tighter in her hand. “I think she’s nervous with you all around her, guys…”

Honoka’s the first to react. “Oh, gosh, sorry Umi,” she stammers, pulling herself (and a few others) away. “I forget that you’re not good with crowds, I’m sorry.” The rest follow, pulling away, muttering apologies.

They all start talking, because when Nozomi had talked about this none of them had thought it was real, much less that it’d happen to one of them. The whole thing has Maki up in arms, almost red-faced as she states the improbability of it all, because if anyone knows diseases it’s her, but Nico’s arguing because it’s not impossible, you dumbass, it just happened. Rin and Honoka watching the debate excitedly, not understanding half the words Maki throws out but enthusiastic nonetheless, and Hanayo’s trying to get them all to calm down, voice cracking as she tries in vain to talk over them. Nozomi and Eli stand side by side, discussing something in hushed tones that Umi can just barely make out.

And then there’s Kotori.

Kotori walks over to her, much to Umi’s dismay, but she has with her a flower, one Umi hasn’t seen before. It certainly didn’t come from herself, she thinks, because the petals match the one she caught from Kotori earlier, and she recognizes the flower instantly. It’s an anemone flower, and she thinks of the duet she and Kotori have together and looks into Kotori’s eyes.

“I’ll tell you my secret if you tell me yours,” Kotori says in that soft voice she so often uses to convince Umi to do things, and Umi’s eyes widen before her gaze shoots back down to the floor, hands clenched into fists.

“I-I ca-” The flowers are creeping up again, and she coughs out a flurry of petals. “I can’t.”

“I’ll tell you first, if you want,” says Kotori, placing her lone flower atop Umi’s pile. She coughs into her hand, once, and Umi scrambles for the water bottle she’d dropped, offering it to her. “No, I’m fine,” Kotori assures her, waving her hand in the empty air between them. “It’s just more of these.” More petals, bright and pink and painful.

“I…” Umi considers her deal and then nods. “Yes. Okay. What you’re saying seems fair enough.”

“It’s only fair if you tell me after, okay?” Umi frowns but agrees, because she’s never really been one for cheap tricks and she can never really say no to Kotori. Kotori leans close and Umi’s face grows hot, flowers thick in her throat, but they seem to disappear the moment Kotori says “it’s you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry if any bits of this were OOC; i havent really written for love live, so im not very used to it. in any case, i hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> for anyone who's confused as to why umi was coughing up flowers in the first place when it's established Kotori likes her back, it's because i've taken more than a few liberties with the idea. i figure that it's enough to just believe your love is unrequited (mostly because i can't stand writing unhappy endings)


End file.
